. Its activity is the accompaniment usually of the
light that God gives, and which man takes, and turns to his own
boasting, with no recognition of the Giver, calling it "civilization."
The Lord's saints are not, for the most part, to be found amongst the
line of inventors. The seed of Cain, and not the seed of Seth,
produces them. The former make the earth their home, and naturally
seek to beautify it, and make it comfortable. The latter, with deepest
soul-thirst, quenched by rills of living water springing not here; with
heart-longings satisfied by an infinite, tender, divine Love, pass
through the earth strangers and pilgrims, to the Rest of God.

Let us glance forward a little. The Church is not found on earth; but
the earth still is the scene of man's invention; and with that
surpassing boast "opposing and exalting himself above all that is
called God, or is worshiped; so that he sitteth in the temple of God
showing himself that he is God," he heads up his wickedness and
ingenuity together, in calling down fire from heaven and in making "the
image of the beast to breathe." (Rev. xiii. 14, 15.) 'Tis his last
crowning effort,--his day is over,--and the flood and the scattering of
old shall have their awful antitype in an eternal judgment and
everlasting abasing.

But the heavenly saints have been caught up to their home. Is there
invention there? Does human ingenuity still work? How can it, if
every heart is fully satisfied, and nothing can be improved? But then
is all at one dead level? No, surely; for "discovery" shall abide when
"invention" has vanished away,--constant, never-ceasing "discovery."
The unfoldings, hour by hour, and age by age, of a Beauty that is
infinite and inexhaustible,--the tasting a new and entrancing
perfection in a Love in which every moment shows some fresh attraction,
some new sweet compulsion to praise!

Discovery is already "ours," my reader--not invention; and each day,
each hour, each moment, may be fruitful in discovery. Every difficulty
met in the day's walk may prove but its handmaid; every trial in the
day's path serve but to bring out new and happy discoveries. Nay, even
grief and sorrow shall have their sweet discoveries, and open up to
sight fountains of water hitherto altogether unknown, as with the
outcast Egyptian mother in the wilderness of Paran, till we learn to
glory in what hitherto was our sorrow, and to welcome infirmities and
ignorance, for they show